Gravel Road
by FanGirlFreak16
Summary: Momma CQ AU! Error only finds comfort and peace within his chaotic life from his violin. When he plays, he doesn't have to worry about Geno's illness of Fresh's emotionlessness. But when Fresh asks Error to come with him somewhere, Error gets more than what he bargained for. Sure, he expected to go someplace stupid, but he didn't expect Fresh to get bullied or for the story he had.


Music wouldn't have been Error's first choice. And no one expected it to turn out that way. CQ had asked the boys if there were any hobbies that they'd like to try out. Heck, Error had shot _all_ of them down.

Wrestling? Physical contact. Basketball? Too many people and hours for practice. Music? Error believed that he hadn't a musical bone on his being.

Yet, here he was, violin angled just as it was supposed to be, fingers pressed against the F and D strings to make a beautiful D minor cord. He stroked the strings of his violin with his bow, breathing out a sigh of contentment.

How had he got a violin in his grasp when he had said no to music? Simple. Aunt Com had had one stashed away in her attic and offered it to the kids. Ink said no because he was more focused on painting and drawing. Fresh said no for reasons Error didn't care about. And Geno…well…that doesn't need to be explained. Since everyone else was too busy, Error thought he'd ask for it in private.

And so he did.

And he was glad he had. He only played when no one else was home, though. He didn't want anyone to know about his violin. Even Ink and Geno were shunned from his talent. Aunt Comyet simply thought that he had forgotten about it and hid it somewhere, but that was far from true.

He used it whenever the chance arrived. Whenever he was alone in the house, his first thoughts always went to his violin. He'd only stop when he watched his mom's car pull up into the driveway. In those moments, it would be a battle of the fastest. Error had to pack up his violin and bow in their case and run upstairs to his room before Mom came in after helping Geno out of the car. Fresh was usually out at Decans's house, and he normally would be until about eight.

So Fresh usually wasn't a problem.

Correction, Fresh was _always_ a problem. Just not when it came to time. If Fresh could just disappear, Error would be a lot happier. _It should be Fresh who's dying,_ Error thought bitterly as he continued to play his violin. _Not Geno._ He'd admit it, he sometimes wished that Fresh would die. He most certainly wasn't living a life in that emotionless state he was in. Not that Error cared what type of life Fresh lived. "He can burn in Hell for all I care." He said angrily as he continued to make soft music with his violin. Though, the more he thought about his idiotic younger brother, he realized how hard he was pressing on his violin strings. He allowed his hand holding the bow to fall to his side while his violin fell from his shoulder and down to his side.

He had to stop thinking about Fresh. Fresh wasn't even worth the time to even merely think about. He was an emotionless freak. He was almost like a robot, now that Error thought about it. "He's probably not even convinced that he's alive." Error said with a snort. Shaking his head, he raised the violin back up to his shoulder, the bow resting gently across the strings. He looked to the sheet music he was trying to memorize before playing each note impeccably and without hesitation. He had been teaching himself how to play, and he thought that he was doing a great job at doing so. Which he was. Each note that he played sounded as if it were being done by someone who was a professional at the violin. But no. He was a mere child. But that didn't matter.

All he knew in this instant was that the bow was gliding steadily and easily over the strings. Naturally so. So when the song ended with the high note of A, his bow sliding completely off afterwards and into the air, Error felt exhilarated. He had finished the song without a single error.

But his exhilaration and sense of accomplishment vanished when he heard clapping.

And it wasn't multiple people, it was one individual. When Error caught sight of who it was, his shock was replaced with irritation. " **!Funk!** ," He muttered, anger in his eyes at the censor. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Broski," Said the 90s stuck lingoed voice of his brother, "I live here. Plus, I guess you are supposed to clap after a good performance, so I did." Fresh answered with a shrug as if it was the easiest question to answer in the world. Error gave him a look as if Fresh was the stupidest person in the world. Which, in Error's eyes, was the case.

"You're such a-" But Error stopped. Did…Did Fresh just call Error…good? "Did…Did you say that I was good?"

Fresh shrugged. "You hit the notes at the right times and kept the time of the measures consistent. You didn't hesitate and there were no unnecessary rests. Doesn't that qualify as a good performance?"

For once, Fresh had left Error speechless. For good or bad? Error wasn't quite sure yet. And to be fair, neither was Fresh. That had been the right thing to say, hadn't it? It didn't sound mean or offensive to him. Then again, neither did mean or offensive sentences. So he waited for Error to say something. But he did not. Fresh entered more into the room, his eyes directed towards the violin. "How long have you played the violin for?" He asked curiously.

Error shook his head, the previous glare returning to his face. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," Fresh said with a shrug. He looked to the violin and then the sheet music on a music stand. "But I am curious."

Error shook his head again before placing the violin back in its case. "Be curious towards someone who actually likes you." He snapped before hiding the violin back under his bed along with the music stand. _Error's gotta be a fast learner at music like I am,_ Fresh thought to himself as his glitchy brother continued to pack his music items away. He had an idea.

"Hey, broseph, can you come with me somewhere real quick?" Fresh asked, arms crossed and his figure leaning against the wall.

Error chuckled bitterly. "Like I'd go anywhere with you."

Fresh stared blankly at Error. That was a remark he was told quite often. But he wanted to show Error. "Look, bro," Fresh said, fiddling with his glasses, "I know that you hate me. Heck, I don't know how many times you've said that you want me dead. But just this once can you pretend that we're brothers? I'm not asking for you to pretend that you like me. Just pretend that you know me." Fresh offered. Error was a bit stunned. Fresh wasn't supposed to hear him. But it was true. Error did want Fresh dead. Or…at least Error had thought so.

But Error kept his glare up. "Get lost."

Fresh shrugged. "Whateves, broseph. I'm outta here! Catch ya on da flipside." Fresh said as he gave a peace out before exiting out of Error's room.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Error called after him, his feet bounding towards the door, and his hand cupped around his mouth.

Fresh just shrugged without looking back. "Don't know, bro. Guess I'll know when I'm there." And as quick as dust floating through the air, he was gone. It was only then when Error decided to follow Fresh. Feet hitting the floor in long bounds, Error ran down the stairs, two at a time. Fresh hadn't been completely out of sight, for he was skating with his Heely's. So Error made a run after him, trying his hardest to not give off any signs that he was behind him.

He was surprised by how far the place seemed, unless Fresh was just walking aimlessly. But that didn't seem too likely. But Error stopped running when he noticed that Fresh stopped skating. Confusion intertwined Error's soul as he stared at Fresh. He was just standing there, as if listening to someone speak. But who? There weren't too many people that they knew who lived in this part of town. If any at all. Fresh appeared to answer back as he took a step back.

Error's eyes darted around the area before his glance landed on a bush near the white bricked library. He didn't give himself a moment to think before he ran back to hide behind the bush.

Maybe he shouldn't have hid.

Several kids came towards Fresh.

Error knew those kids. Each were from their old school. And they all had bad history with Fresh. Yet, Error stayed hidden.

That was a year ago. Surely, these kids had changed their ways.

Boy, was he wrong.

For each step forwards that those kids took, Fresh took a step back. Error only wished that he knew what words were being spoken. Sure, Fresh was emotionless, but if his life was in danger he could very much feel fear. Which Error never understood. But he didn't question anything. He just chose to make fun of Fresh for it.

One kid pushed Fresh. Error just continued to watch intently. He listened as the kids' voices began to get louder. "What're you going to do?! What would the _right_ thing to do be?! You gonna fight us?!"

Error couldn't hear Fresh's verbal response, but he did see Fresh shake his head. Fresh had always been told that fighting was the wrong thing to do. But Fresh had never really been wary about self-defense. It hadn't really been needed. Error decided to get closer. Walking along the fence of bushes, Error listened more intently when he could hear everyone's voices.

"I'm pretty sure this isn't the right thing to do, bros. This seems a lot like bullying." Fresh said, hands in front of him. One of the kids laughed harshly before pushing Fresh so forcefully that he fell to the ground with an _oof!_

"Wow," The bully sneered with an evil smirk plastered to his face, "nothing gets past you, Sherlock," The bully picked Fresh up by the collar of his jacket bringing Fresh dangerously close to his face. The bully could only frown angrily before laughing bitterly. "You were always called the smart one. It's hard to believe that when you can't get this message through your head."

Even if Fresh did fight back, he wouldn't stand a chance. All the bullies were at least high school students, and Fresh was only eight. Though, he was a very smart and clever eight year old. But intelligence and wit wasn't going to get him out this. Not out of a physical fight. Though, Error supposed that Fresh could fight purely out of instinct.

But, even if he chose to do so, his odds weren't looking good.

"Bro, can you like, put me down?" Fresh asked, a bit of nervousness edging the borderlines of his words. _He must be getting nervous,_ Error thought to himself, a bit of nervousness gripping at his soul as well. What was he to do? Should he call for help? He couldn't intervene. If he did that then they'd both be in trouble. What could he do?

Wait…

What was he thinking?

This was Fresh! His freak of a brother! The one that he wished was dead! If he was lucky, the bullies would do that for him! But…that didn't feel right. Watching as Fresh's nervous eyebrows slowly began to knit into something similar to that of fear, Error began to remember that Fresh was still a living, breathing, creature. He could still feel physical pain. What kind of brother would Error be if he allowed his only little brother to get beaten into a pulp?! But what could he do?

Before he could even react to anything that was happening, he heard a loud crack sending him out of his thoughts. He looked to Fresh who was now on the ground, hand being held to his head that was lying on the ground. The kids could only laugh. One kicked dust and gravel up into his eyes causing Fresh to instinctively flinch and rub at his eyes, but to no avail. There was still gravel in his eyes. "C'mon, guys. Let's go." And just as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone again. Error had been frozen in place. What had just happened? He watched as Fresh futilely rubbed at his eyes to get the dust and gravel out, tears running down his face as his body's own way of trying to get rid of the unwanted substance.

The next thing Error knew was that he was knelt before Fresh. "Fresh? Fresh, are you ok?" Error asked without thinking. He took off Fresh's glasses so he could get a better look at Fresh's eyes.

Fresh's eyes continued to blink rapidly as he tried to get his eyes clean. "Error? Error, is that you, broseph? I can't see," Error looked around at his surroundings trying to find any source of water. He nearly jumped when he found a hose hooked up to a nozzle on the outside of someone's dainty, white house. Error grabbed one of Fresh's hands before running him over to the green garden hose that nearly blended in with the vibrant green grass. He practically threw Fresh down into the grass before turning the nozzle of the hose on, causing the water to come out of the hose's opening. Fresh sputtered and yelped when the cold water came in contact with his face. "E-Error? Wh-What a-are you d-doing?" Fresh sputtered out as he thrashed about, trying to free himself.

"Stop moving, you idiot!" Error snapped as he continued to try and flush his baby brother's eyes out. Granted, hose water probably wasn't the best kind to use, but it was better than allowing Fresh to go blind from the substance in his eyes. "I'm not trying to drown you! I'm trying to get the rocks out of your eyes!"

Soon, Fresh's eyes no longer stung in pain and or agitation. When that fact had become clear to Error, he turned off the hose while Fresh sat up, wiping his face off with his shirt. "Thanks, broski," He said, though it sounded a bit muffled in his shirt. "I owe you way more than a shiny Pokémon."

"Yeah, whatever," Error muttered as he extended a hand out to help Fresh up. Fresh looked at Error like he was crazy. Error caught onto the look and looked at his hand himself. "Take it before I change my mind!"

And so Fresh did, reluctantly to say the least. And with a heave of strength, Error pulled Fresh up onto his feet. Fresh muttered his emotionless thanks before taking his glasses into his own hands and placing them on his face. That's when a question dawned on him. "Wait…not trying to sound totes un-rad, bro, but why are you here? I thought you were going to stay home and jam on your violin."

Error gave Fresh what appeared to be an annoyed look. "I got bored so I followed you."

"No way I'm falling for that, broseph. You were pushing it mad hard on that violin. You have a talent. And a passion for it." Fresh actually…complimented?

Error was shocked at the compliment as he began to aimlessly follow Fresh. There was a bigger question at hand. "So…do they…normally bully you like that?"

Now it was Fresh's turn to act shocked. His eyebrows rose a bit at the question, and his steps faltering a bit before he got himself together. He shrugged. "Yeah, but dun worry about it," He said nonchalantly. "Besides, not like you or I care what they do."

Error looked to the grounded where Fresh had been roughed up. It was a gravel road that lead to gosh knew where. And it was at least a fifteen-twenty minute walk from home. "Wait…so…all those times that you came home late…was that because you were injured and left on the ground?" Error questioned.

Fresh looked to him then back to the gravel road that they were walking on. "Sometimes it's not too bad. When it is, though, I normally go to Deccy's house for a bit to try and hide up some of da injuries so Mom doesn't have to worry."

"So you hide your injuries?!" Error asked, a bit of anger glitching into his voice.

"Well, Mom is all up 'n stressed out about the hospital bills for Geno, and you're an emotional wreck, and Geno…well…y'know," Fresh said with a shrug of his shoulders. "There's no point in worrying Mom and Geno."

"What about me? Do you not care about worrying me?" Error asked with slight irritation.

Fresh stopped walking and looked to Error. His eyebrow on his left cocked upward. "You hate me. Even if I came into da room crumbling ta dust all ya'd do is laugh. Ya've said so yourself, broski," He accused before they both began to walk again, Fresh kicking at the rocks. After a minute of silence, Fresh decided that he wasn't finished with his statement. "I'm surprised you didn't help them beat da fudge outta me."

Error's breath hitched in his throat. Fresh thought…that he'd…that he'd…oh man. Error bit on the tip of his finger in nervousness and guilt. What had he done? Had he really shown so much hatred towards his brother that Fresh thought he'd turn on him the chance he was given? How could he have messed up so badly? He threw his hoodie over his head, his eyes directed to the gravel road that they walked on. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Fresh shrugged, his fists stuffed in the pockets of his radical jacket. "Some place that I spend a lot of time at. I think you'll like it."

Now Error was curious. Where could they be going that would leave them both intrigued? Error definitely hadn't expected to see an abandoned church. His face held a look similar to that of stupidity. A church? Really? An abandoned one at that? The glass windows were shattered and broken, some of the pieces decorating the vibrant green grass and some on the inside of the building, no doubt. The old brick building had vines climbing up its side. Error couldn't help but shudder. He found the atmosphere of the church very creepy. "What do you find appealing about a creepy, abandoned church?" Error asked, looking at Fresh like he had lost his mind.

Fresh shook his head as he struggled to open the stuck, old door of the church. He grunted a few times while tugging at the wooden door that had long since began to rot. He clenched his teeth tightly together in concentration and effort before the door flung open violently. He huffed and puffed on air. "It's…It's not the church. It's…It's what's inside the church!" Fresh said before pulling out an emotionless, yet mischievous smirk and entering.

Error stood there, frozen in slight terror of his brother's mental stability. He shook his head before his hands found the drawstrings of his hoodie and held on to them. Slowly and reluctantly, Error entered the abandoned church and looked at the details. It was by no means big. It was probably smaller than an older time cottage with only eight pews, four on each side. Almost no glass windows remained un-shattered. The pews were made of pure wood with no extra source of cushioning for the backside that sat upon it or the back that rested on the back rest. The small church hadn't electric lights, but instead two candle holders on the walls opposite of each other. The wooden table that had once acted as an alter was now crushed into splintering pieces of wood spread about the floor. Other than that, the church had no other objects to offer.

Except for one.

Fresh sat on a small bench that could sit perhaps one other person of Error's size. This bench hadn't a backrest. And in front of Fresh sat a piano. A black, wooden piano that seemed out of place with the rest of the scenery. The piano looked well taken care of, the white keys as soft as snow, and the black keys as bold as the darkest star forsaken night. And upon the small black ledge that protruded from the middle of the piano sat sheet music.

Error could feel his eyes light up. "You play an instrument?" Honestly, he didn't quite understand the shock he felt, himself. Of course Fresh would learn to play an instrument. He was too bored not to.

"Well, yeah," Fresh said as he took a hand and ran it over the top of the piano. "I just kinda stumbled upon this place while on a walk. Me being the curious kid I am, I checked the inside and sure enough, I found this. Ever since, I've been teaching myself how to play."

"Can you play something?!" Error found his mouth running a mile faster than his mind. Almost instantly, he found himself fighting the urge to cover his mouth. He hadn't meant to blurt outward like that!

But Fresh merely shrugged. "Sure, bro." So he looked through his sheet music before finding the one he wanted to play. And so he began. And almost immediately as he began, Error knew what song it was. He loved to play this song on his violin!

It was called Megalovania.

It sounded just as beautiful on a piano as it did on his violin. And easily just as complicated. The song was no walk in the park. Heck, how long had it taken Error to learn that song? Perhaps three to four months. But, here was Fresh, playing the exact same song on his piano. And so Fresh played through all of the complicated high and low notes as well as playing all of the other subtle music notes that some musicians over looked. His fingers glided smoothly and almost naturally over the white and black keys, a singular hand occasionally moving from the keyboard to the sheet music to change the page, yet he still never missed a single note.

So, here Error stood, slack jawed and speechless. As Fresh finished out the song, Error could only feel the steam of hot air that had began to gather up in him to release through many of the holes in his head. Fresh could only stare at Error. "Whatcha starin' at, broseph?" But Error could not find the words that failed him. That was the most complicated song Error had ever tried to learn. How long did it take Fresh to learn it? What made Fresh choose that song? How could he play it so flawlessly? How much did he practice?

Error was almost positive that he was burning bright red. "How did…you like…I like…but I…but you…what?"

Fresh cocked an eyebrow in question. "Uh…bro…I'm supposed ta be da one with da weird lingo, yo. But I didn't understand a word ya just said, broseph."

Error walked closer to the piano, eyes scanning over the sheet music that sat before him. Fresh was still on the last page of the song, having not needing to move it. "That's…That's Megalovania…one of the most difficult songs I've ever tried to learn."

"Yeah," Fresh breathed out, "I'll admit it took a long time ta learn, but I was just so bored, and there was nothing to do, so I just kept practicing it."

Error could feel his eye twitch. What was he to say? The brother he had always sworn that he had wanted dead was bullied and shared a similar interest with him. He felt…kind of…guilty. What if he hadn't followed Fresh? Fresh would more than likely still be sitting on the gravel road, rubbing at his eyes. Why, honestly, he could've gone blind. Not that Fresh would care. But things would be more difficult. For instance, Fresh wouldn't be able to read anymore. And that was one of the only time fillers that Fresh enjoyed to do. Without his eyesight, he would've been doomed.

"So have you been lying to Mom all of these times so you could come here?" Error asked, his eyes directed towards Fresh's. Fresh fiddled with his glasses before giving an answer.

"Yo, ya know dat I think lyin' is totes un-fresh," He said before letting out a sigh and an emotionless smile. Though, to be fair, it appeared to look a bit tired, "but if you told Ma that you were goin' ta some up n' abandoned church, whaddya think she'd say?"

Error opened his mouth to speak to only realize that he hadn't any words to speak. So just as he realized such, he closed his mouth. He looked to Fresh with a sense of understanding. But for the eight years Error had known Fresh, he had never known him to lie. Mainly because it was "un-fresh". Now, Error found himself becoming more understanding towards Fresh. His anger and bitterness slowly melting away. But not entirely. Just to the point where he didn't want Fresh to be dead.

"But, bro," Fresh interrupted his thoughts, "I don't understand," He closed the lid of the piano over the keys. He crossed his arms and placed them down on the closed lid. His head turned towards Error's. "You've told me to die more time than I can count, but then Geno freaks out when I'm mildly injured. And I don't understand," He said with a twinge of frustration. "What's the right thing to do? If I were dead you'd be happier along with Mom not having to pay for one other person. But…Geno acts like I'm not this emotionless freak. That if I was dead it would actually hurt him. And Decans…it almost would seem selfish to do either or. Benefits and disadvantages," Fresh looked to the sheet music that sat on the piano. "Heck, I had had a plan in mind, but as I was about to punch my ticket, I got a bit scared, I guess. So…I didn't. I still don't know what's right. But I wish I did. I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Error's eyes were wide. Did he hear correctly? Did Fresh really say that? Fresh had had a plan to…to kill himself? It didn't seem to be in someone's characteristics for someone like Fresh, but Error also never took the time to actually try and get to know Fresh. Never had Error knew that he had almost become sans a younger sibling. But if he hadn't seen Fresh get roughed up, would he have stopped Fresh…or would he have let him do whatever? "How?" Error's voice came out in a tremulous breath which made Fresh look back over to Error in question. He noticed Error's trembling figure.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, Error, bro, ya ok over there?"

"I asked how, damn it!" Error yelled, his voice glitching uncontrollably. Fresh jumped slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected Error to act this way. If anything, he expected Error to snort, sneer, or laugh…but never yell asking 'how'.

But Fresh just shrugged despite his racing thoughts. "There had been some extra rope in the garage for whatever reason. I had gotten as far as sticking my head through the noose, but I had doubts, so I refrained from doing so."

Error grit his teeth tightly. So much so that chipping or breaking a tooth was becoming a major concern. He closed his eye sockets tightly. His hands balled themselves into fists before shooting to his jacket pockets. How could Fresh be so chill about this? He had almost done something to himself that people used as a punishment against major criminals for gosh knew how long. Fresh was…many things, but a criminal was not one of them. "You're an idiot." He muttered, a wet feeling rising up in the back of his eye sockets.

Fresh shook his head before pushing his sunglasses back up on the ridge of his nose. "I know," He said calmly. "You told m-" He was not able to finish his sentence as a pair of arms enveloped around him. He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. "Uh…" He said uncomfortably as Error hugged him. "What're you-"

"Never even _consider_ doing something like that again! I swear, I will personally beat you until you cannot walk properly on you own!" Error cried as he tried his hardest to keep his tears from falling.

Fresh could only stare ahead of himself with a blank yet uncomfortable look on his face. "I don't understand," He said quietly. "You said that you wanted me to dead."

"Well, I lied!" Error cried, his arms still latched around Fresh even though Fresh didn't hug back. "I don't want you dead! I want to be able to wake up and see you in your obnoxiously colorful clothes! I want to be able to annoy you and you annoy me like normal brothers."

"But I'm not like normal people." Fresh pointed out as he continued to stare out into oblivion.

Error sniffed. "I don't care!"

"Makes two of us, then." Fresh said under his breath. Too slowly in Fresh's book, Error unlatched himself from Fresh and rubbed at his eye sockets.

"C'mon," Error said in a shaky voice, "we better get home before Mom wonders where we ran off to." Fresh nodded once before running a hand over the piano. Once he stepped away, his hand fell to his side. And so the two began to walk out of the old church together, stepping over shards of glass that proved their ability to do harm.

Once they were outside and walking back down the gravel path, Error looked to Fresh out of the corner of his eye socket. Funny how just this morning he would have said that he hated Fresh and would have done anything to see him dead. But now…Error didn't want to see Fresh dead. No, not anymore. He wanted to wake up to his brother's 90s stuck lingo in the morning. He wanted to hear his brother ramble on about some stupid fact he had learned from a book. If he were to awake one day to find Fresh gone to never return…Error wouldn't know what to do. Dare he say it, he'd miss Fresh if he was ever truly gone. Possibly to the point of tears. Error shook his head, not wanting to think about the topic anymore. He looked to Fresh, suddenly forgetting about his fear of touching. He threw his arm around Fresh's shoulders. "I love you, bro."

Fresh was stunned beyond compare. Sure, Geno and CQ had said that they loved him, but never had Error. "Bro, y'know I can't respond to that."

Error shrugged. "I don't care. Now shut up because I'm not taking it back. I love you."

 **Wow, ok, I didn't expect this to be this long. 5,385 words? Look what you did to me Alaina! You inspired me! *pouts* Anyways, this was a gift for AlainaPrana after I saw a tumbler post about people thinking that Error from the Momma CQ AU would be good at the violin and Fresh from the Momma CQ AU would be good at the piano. Momma CQ AU belongs to AlainaPrana and Fresh and Error belong to LoveOfPiggies, the story belongs to me. Please go check out their Tumblrs and such! They are fantastic! Did you like it, love it, hate it? Let me know! :)**


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